


EXHALE

by glittercake



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Ending, Endgame Divergence, Fix It, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Soft softness, Spoilers, Steve on a bike and a leather jacket getting his boy, Tenderness, because fuck all that time travel noise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 08:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercake/pseuds/glittercake
Summary: “Listen, I’ve loved you for an entire lifetime." Steve tells him what they both already know, "I'm ready to go fifty more. But only you and I, just like this. Together. I won't do it any other way."





	EXHALE

**Author's Note:**

> There are spoilers beware!

 

Steve straightens himself out once the time machine deposits him back to the here and now. Something about floating around in between time and space that makes your insides feel all bubbly and off center.

 

Or, he thinks, looking at Bucky fucking Barnes from across the grassy green planes, it might just be the way Bucky’s eyes fall on him that does that. Kind of feeling that leaves his spine all tingly and hollow, kind that knots his stomach up in a tight twist.

 

Bucky’s surprised to see him as if he thought Steve wasn’t coming right back for him. As if his entire future ain’t just right here and he's got some better place to be right now, when in fact there is nowhere on this planet Steve’d rather be.

 

Steve fights to hide a grin about it; about Bucky’s big eyes and parted lips and Sam smirking with that knowing tilt to his chin, as he leans up against a tree.

 

Steve strips off the constrictive top part of the Cap suit, tosses it aside, so he’s left in only the bottom and his white undershirt. It’s chilly, and he’s not an idiot so on his way over to Bucky, he shrugs on that leather jacket he left hanging over the back of a chair. His hair feels kind of tight too, he roughs it up with his fingers, doesn't care that it sticks up in all directions now.

 

Steve doesn’t fucking care anymore. Steve wants to be goddamn happy now, and be so in peace and quiet.

 

Now, it’s a gorgeous day out here, sun ain’t too hot, and the water trickles down the lake, over rocks, birds singing their tunes like they always do- like one of those scenes in a movie when it’s all about to end, and the hero gets the girl.

 

Gorgeous. But nothing Steve’s seen in a hundred or so years compares to James Barnes standing there, those crystal blues flicking between him and Sam, and the closer Steve gets to him the redder his cheeks become. That, _that_ is gorgeous.

 

His Harley’s keys are in the jacket’s pocket, and he takes it out to swing it around his finger, stops when he’s in front of Bucky, “Come on Fancy Face. Let's go.”

 

“You didn’t stay?” Bucky says. Steve’s about to slap him upside the head.

 

“Stay?” Steve says and laughs, “Stay for what Buck? What's back there for me, huh?”

 

Bucky’s eyebrow goes up, his mouth wants to curve, and Steve knows he’s gonna say… “Carter’s there. You tellin’ me…”

 

Steve rolls his head to the sky. When he looks back his hand is half in Bucky’s neck, half on his cheek. Bucky has to know by now. He's gotta know right?

 

“That woman would have killed me dead on the spot if I so much as thought about it, Buck.”

 

And now he’s hooking Bucky closer by the back of his neck, inches at a time. His mouth opens like he’s trying to breathe but can’t and Steve knows what that feels like.

 

Steve’s been struggling to breathe for decades. But now, feeling the crisp air he inhales without it choking him up, he thinks he's never been freer. Bucky doesn’t know that feeling yet. Bucky’s been waiting too, unsure, holding his breath. He doesn’t know yet, that the time has come to exhale.

 

“Steve…”

 

“ _Bucky._ Buck.” he smiles all loose and slanted, and his fingers are now in the nape of Bucky’s neck. “Come on. Peggy didn’t have to tell me to come back anyway. Was always gonna.”

 

Steve looks down at Buck’s mouth, and Bucky sways toward him just a little, makes a small, gruff sound. Steve’s stomach swoops chaotically. He’s a big fucking guy, but he’s trembling.

 

With his nose tip to tip with Bucky’s, he says, “Where else would I wanna be Buck? Come on. Where goddam else would I wanna be but here?” His other hand comes up to Bucky’s side, rests on his hip.

 

“Yall should kiss now,”  Sam calls out to them, still leaning against the tree.

 

Bucky and Steve both laugh, but their eyes are closed now, and Buck doesn’t move, but the tension’s pulled tight between them. Steve does move.

 

It’s a quick tilt of his head, his thumb tipping Buck’s head sideways. Then it’s just soft, careful, I've-been-waiting-forever lips pressed together. Buck opens his mouth first, and Steve thinks he might faint, reacts by pushing Bucky up against the tree at his back. Then it’s all hands in necks and smiling into kisses and “Oh god.”

 

“Not _that_ much!!” Sam shouts this time.

 

Bucky has a beautiful, beautiful laugh.

  


They both get on Steve’s bike, Bucky’s pressed up behind him as close as they used to sleep in the war on cold nights. His body remembers Bucky’s, remembers how to shape and mold and make space for his long limbs. It’s forgotten, however, how Bucky’s arms feel when circling around his waist. How his palm feels flat against his abdomen, how warm he always is even the metal parts of him. Steve’s heart beats rabid in his ribcage.

 

“Take care, Cap.” Sam puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder, “I’ll miss you buddy.” because Sam knows Steve ain’t gonna be back for quite some time.

 

“Cap’s your name now.” Steve winks at him. “But you call me whenever you need me.”

 

“Man. Are you serious!?” Sam laughs and shakes his head, “Go!”

 

Steve laughs too, feels fucking good to laugh and not have a feeling of impending doom lurking around the corner, just the open road, miles and miles to go with his best guy plastered to his back.

 

The bike starts up with a rumble and Sam goes to shake Bucky’s hand at the back. Steve’s never been so satisfied to see someone be pulled into a hug.

 

“Cheers Barnes,” Sams says smiling and steps back.

 

Bucky nods, “Sam.”

 

And they’re off.

 

**~**

 

Along a straight stretch of country road Bucky tells Steve, “Light her up,” and Steve turns the gas handle all the way.

 

They go faster than he thinks Danvers can fly and he feels Bucky laugh against his back.

 

**~**

 

The bike’s dallying down a gravel road, the sun setting up ahead. He's going slower now because Bucky wants to see the rows and rows of tulip fields.

 

“Don't fall off!!” Steve calls out to Bucky who is slipping his grip loose from around Steve's middle.

 

Bucky snorts, stretches his arms out at his sides, so it looks like he's flying. “I've fallen off worse, Doll.”

 

And shit, ain't that the truth.

 

**~**

 

Halfway to Idaho it starts raining. Steve pulls over, and they make out in a red, misted up phone booth for what must be hours.

 

His lips feel swollen and are definitely red once the rain stops and night falls. Skin sensitive from Bucky’s beard chafing it.

 

Bucky’s never shaving that fucking beard if Steve's got any say.

 

**~**

 

The motel has seven open rooms, four with separate double beds.

 

They get the one with a single.

 

**~**

 

Of all the sounds in the world, Bucky crying out “Steve!” while clawing at his back, is by eons the best thing he’s ever heard.

 

**~**

 

They stay up late, really late, and eat vending machine junk on the dingy single bed. Their legs are draped over one another’s, sheets covering what’s necessary.

 

Later the sun’s coming up and pouring past the edges of the curtains and onto Bucky’s back. They’re lying close to each other, and it’s like back in ‘38: just them at sunrise with no place to be except together.

 

Bucky twirls his finger around Steve’s peck and looks far away in thought, “How long do you think we’ll make it for this time, Stevie?” he asks with that deep, rough voice that scrapes Steve’s heart bare. “If we even make it at all.”

 

 _Forever Buck_ , he wants to say. ‘ _Till we’re grey and old and our bones won’t carry us no more_.  Because this time heaven have mercy on whatever tries to take Bucky from him again. Never. Again.

 

“Listen, I’ve loved you for an entire lifetime." Steve tells him what they both already know, "I'm ready to go fifty more. But only you and I, just like this. Together. I won't do it any other way."

 

Bucky tips his head up and the warm morning light glows through his hair when he looks at Steve, "Hasn't it always just been us? Even when it wasn't, even when we were broken bad. Ain't that how we found our way back?" He places his hand over Steve's heart, "With this right here..."

 

"And it always, always will be." Steve presses his lips to Bucky’s forehead, his eyes sting warm.

 

He now knows the value of the pain and loss and unjust that he didn't know before:

 

Everything that had been taken from him would one day be returned tenfold. He'd be allowed to live whole and full and unburdened for the rest of his days. Just like this. In Bucky’s arms, by his side, in his heart.

 

The sun would rise over that endless winter in the Swiss Alps again.

 

Steve Rogers can exhale now. It has been one hundred something years.

 

 


End file.
